


Bytes

by theashemarie



Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Oneshot collection, Post-Octo Expansion DLC, cursing, fantasy au (in some of the oneshots), pearl is a potty mouth: nintendo confirmed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theashemarie/pseuds/theashemarie
Summary: Pearlina oneshots. Canon and AUs. Latest: Pearl can't sleep and Marina is trying to help. [Crossposted on tumblr!]





	1. Housewarming

**Author's Note:**

> I opened myself up to requests over on my tumblr, and this is the cross-post. I will be continuing Riding Out the Wave; these are just easier to write while I'm in the thick of grad school. If you would like to request something, go to my tumblr. Requests are closing soon, though! http://theashemarie.tumblr.com/
> 
> This one is from this request: "For the Pearlina request, how about Marina's first day/night staying with Pearl? Or for some angst, nightmares."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marina's first time at Pearl's house. Also: fireworks.

The house is huge, bigger than she’s read about, with a never-ending stream of rooms. “They’re all for storage,” Pearl jokes as she leads Marina up the stairs. Marina, weak in the knees at the sheer size of this place and the fact that she’s _free_ , that she no longer has to struggle to survive underground, in a society that only wanted her for what they could get out of her, how much they could control her, laughs a choked laugh. The banister is smooth under her hand and she can picture Pearl sliding down it as a child, free as... Well, free as an Inkling.

Pearl offers her the first room they come across, for which Marina is thankful. She can’t imagine going further into this labyrinthine house, can’t imagine navigating her way around without Pearl to guide her, and she gratefully follows Pearl inside after she swings the door open grandly. “This is one of the smaller guest rooms,” Pearl says, glancing nervously between Marina and the canopied, queen-sized bed. The room is massive compared to Marina’s standards, with enough space for her to have sparing practice if she so desired. The bed is large enough for three of her, and what little she can see of the bathroom is also far too large—a tub the size of her room back home, a sink she could swim in, and a shower that could double as a second bedroom.

Marina isn’t sure if Pearl has the capacity to look sheepish. In the short time they’ve known each other, Pearl has made no indication that she feels anything other than smug self-confidence, but here she is rubbing the back of her head, watching Marina look over the room with something that looks a lot like apprehension. “You can say you don’t like it,” Pearl assures her. “It’s small, but you said you don’t like big spaces, right?”

She did say that, long ago, when they first ran into each other and Pearl caught Marina laying on her back and staring at the wide blue sky. Well, what she actually said was that she wasn’t _used_ to large spaces, but she was actually grateful that Pearl misheard. It’s easier to explain not liking large spaces than not being used to them, considering she’s pretending to be an inkling. She still can’t believe that Pearl believed that, but then, what would Pearl assume she was, other than an inkling? It’s not like octolings are running around on the surface.

“Yeah,” Marina answers, and steps forward slowly. The plush carpet gives way underfoot, absorbing the impact of her bare feet like a cloud. She’s never felt something so soft. “It’s perfect,” she adds as she wiggles her toes.

“Great!” Pearl whoops. “Not that I was worried,” she adds quickly. Then, seeing Marina’s bemused smile, she begins to back away. “Anyway,” she claps her hands, “I’m gonna go scope out what’s for dinner. Make yourself comfortable.”

+

Dinner is quiet because it’s just the two of them and the giant house. The cook goes home before they finish, and Pearl assures Marina that usually there’s a butler, but she gave him the day off. “Because I didn’t want to overwhelm you...” she says, and then adds, “Because most people are overwhelmed, not because you’re weird or anything. If you are overwhelmed.”

Marina may not be from around here, but she can tell when someone’s accustomed to being stared at. Pearl has a lot of money, and despite her cool, calm demeanor, it’s caused some problems in her life, socially. Marina wonders just how many people have used her.

Of course, Marina is used to having nothing, so she’s not exactly sympathetic to Pearl on the whole, but she is sympathetic to the fact that she’s not sure who she can trust. More than anything, Pearl seems like she wants to impress, as if she’s not used to being so worried that someone will like her home, and that’s touching in a weird way. Marina doesn’t have high standards, but to have Pearl so worried makes her feel a little flattered. And embarrassed, mostly because she doesn’t want their friendship to start off like this.

So, they eat dinner quietly, with just the clack of silverware between them. Marina can’t identify what the food is, but it’s delicious. She studiously ignores the way Pearl keeps peeking at her.

Eventually, the food is eaten, and the dishes need cleaning, so Pearl leads her into the kitchen. It’s just as large as everything else, with lots of chrome and granite. Distantly, she wonders after a dish washer, then realizes that she can hear it gently whirring, somewhere else in the room—probably full from the cooking. Carefully, they wash—or rather, Pearl washes and Marina dries. Marina gets the feeling that Pearl hasn’t done this that often, considering how she uses way too much soap and stares at the plate too hard. Marina doesn’t intrude though, because she knows how that feels, to want to do something for yourself.

That, or Pearl just doesn’t want to seem like too much of a spoiled princess.

They couldn’t be more different really, and that’s what makes this all so interesting and new. Marina is all self-sufficiency and survival while Pearl is all self-indulgence and ease, and that’s intriguing. Marina can’t quite wrap her head around all this new world, but she imagines that Pearl will help her navigate. In return, she’ll give Pearl the friendship that she so desperately desires.

And, maybe, just maybe, they’ll make a little music together too.

“Let’s get you in something comfortable,” Pearl says, apropos of nothing, once they’ve put the dishes away. She looks Marina up and down, at her cheap, thrift store clothes of tight jeans and a thick t-shirt. “This is a sleepover, after all.”

Marina has no idea what that means.

+

They end up on the couch, watching something Marina can’t make sense of. It’s loud and in her face, like a lot of surface culture is, and it’s exciting, exhilarating. She sits up straight with her legs pulled into her chest, dressed comfortably in one of Pearl’s oversized sweatshirts (well, it’s oversized on Pearl; on Marina it fits okay). Pearl, meanwhile, is leaning back, head lolled over to one side, and every now and then she speaks along with the characters on screen, as if she’s seen it a thousand times.

It’s a cute movie, with animated animals and plenty of songs. Pearl says something about it being a remake of a human flick, which explains some of the weird dialogue. Mostly, Marina is glad to have something to relax to. She hasn’t felt this at ease since... Well, she can’t quite remember when. But now, she’s got Pearl’s overstuffed, soft couch and a children’s movie to keep her company, convince her that maybe everything will be okay. Pearl is a comforting presence at her side, and Marina can’t help but begin to hope that things will fall into place.

Then, of course, there’s a distant _pop_! somewhere nearby. It’s not loud, but it is familiar: an explosion, and Maria can almost feel the smoke in her nose, smell the acrid tartness, and she jumps. Not too much, just a tiny jerk, but her hearts are hammering in her chest and she can feel her teeth clench, the muscles in her jaw tightening. She prepares for the assault, can picture a swarm of inklings hammering on the windows, primed with bombs, inkzookas, inkstrikes, every weapon imaginable.

She covers her ears as the pop comes again, louder, and her hands are shaking.

“Marina?” she hears Pearl, and feels a soft, unafraid hand lay itself on her shoulder. Marina almost rears back, but some rational part of her brain keeps her place, allows her to be comforted. Pearl pats her shoulder awkwardly, ignorant of that fact that Marina could snap her half in she so desired.

“It’s just the splatfest fireworks,” Pearl assures her, as if that will help, as if Marina knows what that is. “I totally forgot that was tonight. Early bird versus night owl. Kinda dumb if you ask me—everyone I know is a night owl.”

Marina tries very hard to focus on her words, trying to ignore a loud crackle of fireworks followed by multiple consecutive concussive booms, and she mostly succeeds. “Splatfest...” she mumbles, trying out the unfamiliar word. “It’s like... a fight?”

Pearl gives her a critical look. “Wow, you totally weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t from around here. Yeah, everyone is given two options and you pick one. Then there’s this giant rager in the plaza and everyone dukes it out. The Squid Sisters perform and everything! It’s killer. We totally have to headline a splatfest someday.”

Marina tries to imagine that—performing in front of all those people, with all that activity, under those lights. But then she gets to the part where there will definitely be more fireworks, right overhead, closer than ever, and she very nearly backs out of the whole thing, panics and tells Pearl _actually, I don’t think I can do this whole singing thing after all_ — But Pearl is still talking.

“Everyone will love us! You have a great voice and I can hype the crowd! And you can do that sexy walk of yours, that hip swing. I’ll jump a lot because that’s what you do when you’re hyping the crowd. Have you ever been to a concert? I used to headline a punk band and let me tell you: they were _hype_. I know how to do my shit. Our splatfests will be _the best_ —”

Marina can’t help it. Maybe it’s the stress or the panic, but she laughs. Pearl’s earnest spiel is charming and relaxing all at once because she’s so _certain_ —so certain that they’ll make it, that they’ll get that coveted spot as the headlining act, so confident that they’ll sell, and everyone will love their music. It’s intoxicating in a way, that confidence, and it also helps Marina feel a little better about the future. Pearl is security, with all that certainty packed into her small body, and Marina can’t help but smile.

Of course, the fireworks will be another matter, but she has a feeling that Pearl will help her get through those.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are cherished. <3


	2. Rough Seas Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marina is looking to make a deal. Unfortunately, it's with one of the most dangerous creatures in the world: a kraken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The request: "Fantasy AU with Pearlina?" which was super broad. So I went a little nuts. Like: pirates and krakens. You'll see. 
> 
> I might continue this AU because I really like it. I wrote this whole thing in 45 minutes and I haven't been so inspired in a while.

Marina rows slowly, trying to keep a steady pattern so as to not excite sharks or anything else that might want to take a bite of her. As she rows backwards, the form of her ship gets smaller, the sails a bright white against the darkening sky. Her crew watch her go and some even wave white flags, snapping them taunt with the wind. They’re superstitious, believe that white keeps the sirens away—it’s why their sails are so painstakingly bleached white regularly—and she mostly humors their quirks. It keeps morale up and they trust that they’ll be safe when they sail out here, in these dangerous waters.

There were stories that the krakens and sirens began just like octolings—as ocean dwellers back during the time of the humans—but while octolings evolved to exist outside of water, squids grew to become the rulers of the ocean. Krakens are the eventual result, though a lot of people don’t believe they exist. It’s mostly superstition that drives beliefs these days—krakens don’t exist because then they would have to confront their primal ancestors, and octolings are above all that. They don’t need the ocean anymore, or to depend on it for food, but Marina knows better. She knows the call of the water even if she can’t swim in it, and she knows the song of the waves, the gentle push and pull of things.

It’s why she doesn’t spend time on superstition. And why she’s out here in the first place.

Krakens can reach the size of blue whales, but sirens are smaller—octoling size, the better to lure them to their deaths. They prefer the shallows too, though not in populated areas. She figures that they love the mystique that the stories give them. From what she’s seen, the predilection for drama didn’t get lost as their evolutionary pasts split. Octolings and krakens alike: masters of spectacle.

She’s been out here before, made contact a couple of times, though she wonders if that was all a fluke. This time, she has an offering: a peace deal because she has wild ideas about sailing where no one has gone before. Most octolingkind is concentrated on the mainland; there isn’t much land to go around, but she has a theory that there’s more out there. They haven’t developed the technology to sail very far (though they know it’s possible, given how advanced the humans were), but she knows how to do it. She just needs help.

The boat rocks, and for a second she thinks that it’s the man she’s got knocked out and tied up (he’s a criminal, not that that makes her feel much better about what she’s about to do), but then something begins to push the boat in a slow, agonizing circle. She quickly pulls the oars back in to keep from getting pulled out (ignoring that the boat can be easily tipped by whatever’s in the water) and reaches for the knife she keeps on her hip, just for safety.

She glances over the edge just to be sure, and yep: a small, pink and white body, with long, thick tentacles in the place of legs is circling lazily. The siren is facing up towards her, and when she sees Marina’s eyes peek over, she lets out a wide, beaked grin.

A clawed hand latches on to the side of the boat, rocking it as the siren uses it to pull herself up. Her face and head are familiar—almost exactly like that of an octoling, with tentacles framing her face and long, pointed ears. She even emotes like an octoling, and that’s what’s been the most unnerving in their brief interactions. Marina can almost pretend that the siren isn’t trying to trick her every chance she gets.

“Didn’t think you’d come back.” the siren says as she leans far enough to send the boat dipping, just so she can press her face close to Marina’s. Marina has to try very hard not to lean back; that would just offend her.

“I told you I would,” Marina says, sitting up straight. “A deal is a deal.”

“Mm, it is. What’cha got for me?” The siren drops back into the water, so she can move closer to the unconscious octoling at the other end of the boat. “Bit gamey,” she says as she pokes the body with one long claw.

Marina blanches, which is ironic because what did she bring the man here for? She _expected_ this.

“Please,” the siren snorts. “You really believe that shit, don’t you? That we eat them? Well, you listen to ole Pearl. Fish taste a lot better.”

Sirens even have names, and family structures, that much Marina is painfully acquainted with. She’s lucky she ran into Pearl the first time she was out here—her father has a lot of power in the deep, a lot of influence. Pearl calls herself a princess, but Marina thinks it doesn’t actually mean royalty. It’s probably more like... spoiled and privileged.

Really, their lives aren’t all that different.

“Well, did you talk to him?” Marina asks, testy because she’s so uneasy.

“Who?” Pearl asks idly. “Oh, my father, right. I did, because, as you said, a deal is a deal. He’s game, as long as he gets something out of it.”

Marina can’t imagine what he could possibly want, but she knows that Pearl will tell her, once she stops being so cagey about it. “I suppose one man isn’t enough.”

Pearl leans on the edge of the boat again, this time propping her head up in her palm, elbow on the side. “Please, I don’t want him. I just wanted to see if you’d bring him. Can’t believe it worked.”

Marina, dumbfounded, has to work very hard to keep her mouth from dropping open. “ _You don’t want him_?”

“Nah, girl, what do you take me for? You really believe that there’s a race of sea women that want to lure men to their deaths? Where’d you get that? From some human myths?”

That’s exactly where it came from, but also... “There have been reports.”

“Pretty sure we were fucking with you.”

“Sailors went missing.”

“Shit happens. Have I done anything to you, huh? Why didn’t I just sing my little song to you the first time we met? Would’ve saved me a lot of headache. Though...” Pearl smiles a wide, shark grin. “It’s been fun. More interesting anything happening at home. You’re brave.” She lazily indicates the knife that Marina still has a white-knuckle grip on. “I like that.”

Marina can’t get her mind around this fast enough. Everything she knows is wrong— Well, she _knew_ that, didn’t she? It was why she risked coming out here in the first place. Why believe one myth (that sirens killed people) and not another (that sirens didn’t exist at all)? She was stupid, really, to trust Pearl, but also, she’s been nothing but truthful, as far as Marina can tell.

“Well...” She sighs and crosses her arms. “What _do_ you want then?”

“Hm...” Pearl taps one finger on the side of her face, putting on the grand act of thinking. “I want to come.”

“Come... _with me_?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Oh yes, please, just come with me! Hop on in my boat!” Marina throws her hands out, to showcase her small dingy with its two oars and unconscious, useless man.

“You’re so dense. I guess that’s why you can’t swim.” Pearl points at Marina’s larger ship, its sails looking like clouds. “I can swim faster than that thing. I can easily keep up. You just have to tell your crew not to shoot me.”

Marina laughs incredulously. “And what about your father? What does _he_ want?”

Pearl rolls her eyes, as if the idea of her father is a giant bore. “In exchange for supplies, safe passage, and a large escort, he wants... me to go with you.”

“...you’re kidding.”

“Nope!” Pearl even goes so far as to pop the _p._ “I mean, at first, he wanted like sixteen maidens, but then I— Oh, you’re going to catch fish if you keep your mouth open like that. No, he wanted a boat, but I figured you couldn’t get that, so I talked him down to... Me.”

“You.”

“Yes, Marina, me! I want to come with you. And I want to stay close to the ship. The bodyguard my father has lined up is the size of a killer whale, so he’ll have to keep his distance, but I want to be close.”

Marina realizes then that she’s very tired, exhausted by this conversation, Pearl’s quick banter, and her constant shattering of everything Marina knows. What she needs more than anything is a good long nap. “Why?” she heaves out. “Just answer that.”

Pearl shrugs and pulls herself up further once more. She doesn’t get as close as last time, though she does get close enough that Marina can feel water drip onto her boots. “I like you. And I want to learn more about octolings. You’re fascinating. Mostly though, I wanna explore just like you. Test my singing on some hapless sailors along the way.” She even goes so far as to wink after that last bit.

It’s too much. Marina doesn’t understand it and she needs time to consider it. “I have to discuss this with my crew,” she says instead. “I’ll come back in three days with an answer.”

Pearl’s face lights up, as if she hadn’t really believed that she would get this far. “Promise?” she asks, far too hopeful for the dangerous creature that she is. After all, she has Marina out here in the ocean, a place that can and will kill her, and with one flick of her tentacles she can send Marina to her watery grave.

Still, it’s touching, somehow, and Marina grabs for her oars. “A deal is a deal,” she says as she dips them in the water, prepared to make the long journey back to the ship.


	3. An Atypical Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl is definitely not drunk and Marina is definitely not humoring her. [Alcohol mention cw. No one actually drinks on camera though.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [this prompt collection](http://theashemarie.tumblr.com/post/171879458349/drabble-list-2). Prompt number 41. "I'm not drunk enough for this."

Pearl and Marina stumble home at two in the morning on what used to be Saturday night (but is now Sunday morning by law of midnights). Another successful splatfest under their belts, and the afterparty had been just as, if not more, fruitful, what with Pearl getting almost (but not quite) completely sloshed and Marina doing that adorable thing she does where she bundles Pearl into the car and lets her sleep and drool on her shoulder. Pearl might have slurred something at her like “You’re so beautiful... and niiiiice. Such nice glutes...” as she hid her face in Marina’s clavicle, getting closer and closer to being completely in Marina’s lap—where she wanted to be. Marina might have gently pushed her off, insisting that she needed sleep. Pearl might have grumbled, “I can sleep there.”

Most importantly, Pearl is _not_ drunk when they get home. She is absolutely sure of this. Okay, maybe she’s a little tipsy, but she is _not_ hammered. Marina didn’t even touch the alcohol tonight, which makes her whole monkeying-onto-Marina’s-body all the more embarrassing. Sure, Marina is used to it, and she’s equally clinging, especially right before they go to sleep, but Pearl prides herself on her hard-crusted demeanor in public.

Marina’s never been one for drinking, but ever since they got together she’s doubled down on that. She says that it’s because she wants Pearl to have a good time without worrying, but Pearl has a hunch that it has something to do with her past. Pearl can’t imagine what that must be like—to be so afraid of remembering. Or, maybe she just thinks that she’ll be a violent drunk. It wouldn’t do for her to suplex someone. Sure, Pearl can get away with that (mostly) but that’s because she’s tiny and has the persona. People _expect_ Pearl to throw down if things get violent; they don’t expect Marina to.

That’s neither here or there though. Pearl _isn’t_ drunk. She’s not. Even as Marina helps her out of the car and drags her up to the door and Pearl trips. Marina chuckles and says, “C’mon lightweight. Let’s get you into the bath.”

“Only if you come in with me,” Pearl answers, a bit delayed, and then adds: “Not drunk.”

“Sure you’re not.” Marina keys in the code for the door and pushes it open. It’s the weekend house, which means everything is dark, furniture covered with sheets because they haven’t been here in a few weeks. It was Pearl’s idea to come out here after the splatfest—get some much-needed R&R, some girlfriend bonding time, and... maybe a little more.

“No way, not tonight. Stop looking at me like that.” Marina laughs as she tows Pearl inside. Pearl quickly schools her face and has the decency to look embarrassed—she hasn’t been caught fantasizing that outwardly since high school.

Maybe she is drunk.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “You’re so beautiful... You taken?”

Marina lets out a half-exasperated-half-amused sound. “Unfortunately, yes. She’s a little thing, but I love her.”

Pearl detaches herself from Marina’s side, trying to appear indignant and failing miserably. “Who’s this mystery girl?”

“It’s _you_ , silly. C’mon, before you fall.”

“I’m _not_ drunk,” Pearl says, obstinate, but falls back against Marina. She loves the feel of her, so solid, against her side, and she never wants to let her go.

And isn’t that sappy? Maybe not as sappy as telling that reporter that the best thing to ever happen to her was Marina, but she means it. If she’s lucky enough to spend every moment of her life with Marina from now on, she would call her life a success, regardless of their chart-topping singles or headlining gigs. Their music careers could crash and burn around her ears tomorrow and she wouldn’t be too upset, as long as she still has Marina.

She wants to tell Marina all this, and to assure her that if she ever wants to let loose, Pearl will be there to watch out for her. She even gets so far as to open her mouth and say, “Marina, I—” but Marina freezes at her side, turns from a pliable warm body to granite in an instant.

“Someone’s here,” Marina whispers, and her arm tightens around Pearl’s shoulder. It’s kinda hot, the way she gets so protective and— Pearl shakes her head. Gotta keep it together.

“Who’s here?!” Pearl yells, trying to sound intimidating. She steps forward, not far enough that Marina has to let go, but enough. Her fists rise, and she squares her stance. “Who’s there, huh? Who wants to get fucking punched?!”

The light flips on and Pearl and Marina both whirl around. Then, they let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

“Sheldon!” Marina lets out, voice just on this side of panicked. “Don’t scare us like that!”

Sheldon, who is standing near the door, still dressed in his clothes from the shop, looks sheepish. He even goes as far as to rub the back of his head. “Sorry.”

“How’d you get in here?” Pearl demands. She wants to throttle him for interrupting their night, but he looks so pathetic.

Sheldon gestures to the open door. “You didn’t close it.”

That’s all on Marina, and Pearl can’t help but look at her, smug, with an expression that says _See, I’m not the only one who forgets to lock it._

Marina ignores her. “How’d you know we were here?”

Sheldon holds his phone up, prepared for this line of questioning. “It’s pretty easy to keep track of where you go. Social media and all.”

“Hm, don’t like that,” Pearl declares, but it’s something they’re used to. “What do you want?”

“Well... I had this idea for a new weapon and I wanted to show you the schematics—”

“You’re _kidding_!” Pearl cries. “It’s like two in the fucking morning!”

“Is that what time it is? I lose track in the workshop.”

“ _Sheldon_ —” Pearl takes an aggressive step toward him, but Marina stops her with a hand on her shoulder. Pearl sighs. “I’m not drunk enough for this,” she decides, and whirls away to go raid the liquor cabinet. This is gonna be a long, _long_ night.

As she begins to clink the bottles, searching for something other than whiskey (her father has terrible taste, really), she hears Marina and Sheldon mumbling. Something about “Couldn’t you talk to Callie or Marie?” to which Sheldon answers, “They’re out of town.” Marina, caught between her own compulsory congeniality and Sheldon’s pitiful disappointment, can only say, “Well... What is it?”

Pushing aside bourbon and tequila, Pearl finally lands on something she wants to drink: cranberry juice. She pours herself a finger because even if she’s not drinking she wants to feel like she is. Then, she pours one for Marina, just for good measure. No alcohol, but she figures Marina will appreciate it.

She walks back over to them just as Sheldon says, “lob lawful blobs bombs.” Marina amicably nods her head in response.

“That sounds lovely.”

Pearl breaks in before Marina can say more. “Now get out. We’re busy.” She shoots back the cranberry juice. It’s tart and burns her throat, perhaps more than any alcohol could, but it wakes her up a little.

 “But—”

“Come back tomorrow,” Marina amends.

“Or don’t,” Pearl mutters.

Sheldon finally seems to get it. “Yeah, I’ll— Actually, I’ll call.”

“Email’d be good,” Pearl says.

“I’ll email. Thanks for your time.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” Marina says, ever the overly-polite one. Pearl makes a shooing motion with her hands.

As Marina closes the door behind him, Pearl can’t help but laugh. “Love that little dude,” she says as she holds the extra glass of juice out to Marina. “Just wish he had more social awareness.”

Marina accepts it and sniffs it before taking a sip. “You mean it’s _not_ normal to show up at someone’s door at two in the morning?”

“I mean, it’s normal for _me_ , but maybe we shouldn’t be using me as an example.”

“Hm, you’re right.” Marina easily tips back the rest of the juice since she’s deemed it safe. Pearl doesn’t take her distrust to heart; they did just have a weird couple of minutes. “Where were we?”

“ _We_ ,” Pearl emphasizes, “were about to take a bath.”

Marina grins and pads close. She pulls Pearl into her arms and leans down to kiss her, but then abruptly pulls back. “Oh, okay, nope. Just you. You _stink_.”

“That’s all me, baby. All-natural Pearl. Can’t handle it?”

Marina considers, sniffs, takes in Pearl’s wild grin, and shakes her head. “I’ve smelled worse, but never from a person. You smell like low tide. Let’s go, before all-natural Pearl kills me.”

Pearl throws back her head and laughs as Marina tows her up the stairs. Damn, what a night. _And_ , she looks up at Marina, _what a girl_.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are cherished. 
> 
> I'm trying to write something once a day during October, but I forget this website exists. Don't know if I'll update every day, but.


	4. Looking Out for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl can't sleep and Marina tries to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No request this time. Just me writing for fun last night. Wrote this in 15 minutes so it's not a masterpiece but I think it's pretty neat.
> 
> Prompt from [this prompt collection](http://theashemarie.tumblr.com/post/171879458349/drabble-list-2). Prompt number 78. “I’m just looking out for you.”

That night, Pearl couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, trying not to jostle Marina too much. Marina was fast asleep next to her, had fallen asleep almost as soon as she dropped into bed, as she always did. It probably had something to do with the military or something—fall asleep quickly because you only got so much rest. That or Pearl really wore her out that much during the day (high possibility). Still, Pearl was jealous of how easily Marina fell asleep. She wasn’t prone to screen blindness like Pearl, and she wasn’t addicted to caffeine either, plus she liked to actually read real books before she went to sleep. Really, she was a lot healthier than Pearl—Pearl with her nighttime glass of chocolate milk (sugar bomb) and her phone, brightness cranked to max, scrolling through all her social feeds before spiking her phone onto the charger, flipping off the lamp, and then tossing and turning for hours. Yet, Pearl still wondered if there wasn’t something else going on here.

That night, Marina slept on her side, facing Pearl, breath puffing gently out of her slightly open mouth. Her eyes were closed firmly, and her face was serene. She was just as beautiful as ever, but Pearl laid there and watched her like she always did when she couldn’t sleep, and she called herself lucky. Lucky to have Marina, to have this life, to have everything. And then she rolled over and wanted to squirm because she couldn’t sleep.

This continued for a few hours. Pearl stopped looking at the clock at one point, just because it was so depressing. What did that old clock know anyway? Three in the morning was _early_. Eventually, she got up, did jumping jacks, ran up and down the stairs, drank some hot milk (no chocolate this time), did the dishes, took the trash out, daydreamed about getting a cat (would Judd possibly consider another Lil Judd? Pearl really wanted a pet; she’d been watching a lot of old human movies), finished her milk, looked up paint colors for the living room because Marina hated the gray, considered playing a video game but then scolded herself because the screens were what got her into this mess, practiced on her skateboard (fell off her skateboard), and, at four in the morning, finally climbed back into bed, physically exhausted.

She tried not to jostle Marina too much but, inevitably, Marina rolled over and put her head on Pearl’s chest. She didn’t say anything right away, just traced a small circle in the center of Pearl’s chest. Pearl watched her head go up and down with her breathing and tried to ignore how Marina’s swirling finger looked raw. Marina had been picking at the skin again, like she always did. Her cuticles stood no chance when she was stressed—which was always, just as a result of her early life, and her dreams, and her jumpiness at fireworks, and Pearl’s penchant for trying to skateboard down the banister, and her worry about everything else—and Pearl was trying to break her of that habit.

“Did I wake you?” Pearl said. She grabbed Marina’s circling hand and tutted at the puckered skin on her fingers. “Mar...”

Marina pulled her hand back. “I woke up because I was cold.” She half sat up, leaning on one arm so she could pin Pearl with the full force of her pout. “Where’d you go?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to wear myself out.”

Marina sighed and Pearl could tell that she was disappointed. “It’s all the caffeine.”

“I think it’s the screens.”

Marina rolled her eyes and reached up so she could grab Pearl’s cheeks tight between her fingers. Slightly, she felt the force of those long digits push her lips into a pout and Marina craned upward, looming larger in Pearl’s vision. “Hm... You might be right. Your eyes are bright red.”

Pearl lost focus for a second, because Marina’s tank top fell off one shoulder, showing off the sharp expanse of her neck. She felt Marina’s fingers release and she licked her lips compulsively. “Hey,” she said, “since you’re so close, why don’t you make my day?”

Marina rolled her eyes but did as she was bid. The kiss was slow and languid, sloppy because they were both exhausted, and it ended quickly, mostly because Marina clearly didn’t want to hold herself up anymore. She dropped back onto Pearl’s chest and sighed again.

“I’m just looking out for you, y’know?” Marina said toward Pearl’s stomach. “You need rest.”

“I know,” Pearl muttered. “Just like how you need to quit picking on your fingers.”

Marina sat up. “That’s hardly the same thing.”

Pearl grinned a shark grin, happy to have the subject changed. “C’mon, it so is. We both have a problem.”

“Mine isn’t affecting my health.” Marina scooted slightly so she could put her head back on her pillow. The rejection would hurt if Pearl didn’t think the pettiness of it was so funny.

Pearl grabbed her hand and held it up. In the blue glow from the alarm clock and her adjusted vision, the peeling skin was clear as day. “Oh, it is. Mar, look at this. You could get an infection. And I know that’s the last thing you want.”

Marina yanked her hand back. Pearl was right and she knew it. Pearl could see it on her face. Marina didn’t like doctors, especially ones she didn’t know well. Too many secrets to be blown in a doctor’s office, and who knew if surface bacteria were different from underground bacteria anyway? Marina could get majorly sick with open wounds like that.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Pearl echoed. She grabbed Marina’s hand back and laid a kiss on her knuckles. “I want these hands to remain intact for a long time.”

Marina grumbled but didn’t argue. Instead, she snuggled close again. She was cold after all. “And I want you to sleep.”

“I’m trying. I am.”

“Try harder.” Marina threw her arm across Pearl’s chest again and shoved her face into Pearl’s shirt. She didn’t say anything for a bit and suddenly her breath evened out. She was asleep again, just like that.

Incredible really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @theashemarie for fic snippets and me yelling about my girlfriend. 
> 
> Kudos appreciated; comments are cherished.


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